We’ve seen some stupid, stupid shit together over the years, you and I, but this week…hoo boy. The Republican Party simply will not stop stabbing itself in the brain. God knows why. Just double fisting icepicks and gouging away.

After squandering the most favorable midterm political environment any of them are likely to see, Republicans were eager to turn the page, to move on from the perverts n’ weirdos, but that’s not how it works, campers; you’re a MAGA party now, and for every Doug Mastriano or Herschel Walker you shove back under the bed, there’re ten Chip Roys looking to claw their way into the spotlight. There will always be another pervert. There will always be another weirdo. This is the life you asked for. Have fun with it.

Yes, weaned on gameshowified politics and the reliably impotent harrumphing of feckless moderates, Kevin’s terrible toddler caucus busted out of the nursery and clamped a vise around his nuts, and who could’ve seen that coming except everybody? It’s like running a day care center where you feed the kids nothing but Pixy Stix and espresso, screen films from the Saw franchise all day, and then take ‘em to the symphony and expect ‘em to behave.

I’m drafting this after ballot #13, as Kevin parades around with his I Lost Slightly Less Humiliatingly This Time participation trophy, and if he does survive, I’m sure history will view this week’s drastic lowering of already low expectations as a savvy move on his part. This Congress is going to need to measure its successes in Mayonnaise Jars Opened, and even then, don’t get greedy.

Not sure how much of the store is left for ol’ Kev to give away at this point, but I have faith in his ability to find creative new ways to debase himself. Not the best vote-counter, perhaps, but a world-class capitulator. This season of Debt Ceiling Chicken is gonna be lit.

There’s supposed to be another vote later tonight, but if your plan involves Gaetz and Boebert voluntarily relinquishing their stranglehold on the C-SPAN feed…good luck. But who knows, maybe at some point in the near future, House Republicans will finally manage to drag their sad, saggy selves over the starting line, and I’m sure it’ll be two years of nonstop legislative mastery after that.

(Anyway, this is the rare story that’s fast-moving on a Friday night, which is when I post, so I apologize in advance for any stale takes. As always, you may return any unused portion of this blog for a full refund.)

Let me add, George Santos waddling around in the background, ducking reporters, voting McCarthy, getting his finger stuck in his ear every couple hours…it’s just an exquisite detail. My compliments, this is one lovingly crafted clusterfuck.

I also thought it was a nice touch when the boondoggle lasted long enough to barrel into America’s insurrectiversary, in case the lessons about meddling with forces you can’t hope to control were still too subtle for anybody. Which, spoilerz: yup.

Anyway, as much fun as it is watching Kevin McCarthy lose, one can endure just so many pointless floor votes before the thrill of waiting to see what Andy Ogles will do wears off. Luckily, this train wreck triggered many a MAGA meltdown, as the party of deranged idiots struggled to come to grips with the consequences of a being a party of deranged idiots.

Even Ben Shapiro was forced to acknowledge the “general perception that Republicans are incompetent and foolish.” Yeah, Ben, you lower the standards a little at a time, until one day you wake up to a headline about Ali Alexander calling Marjorie Taylor Greene a “harlot,” and you realize, “wow, I’m in a political coalition with both of these people,” and I imagine the journey to “wait, are we dumbasses?” is fairly short from there.

Suddenly all these people who do nothing but rile up the mob all day are confused and indignant that there’s a mob to deal with. It’s kind of adorable, actually, watching Sean Hannity, cast as the stodgy, finger-wagging institutionalist, berate Lauren Boebert until she runs away screaming “I learned it by watching you!!!” Those two can split a bag of dicks, by the way.

Oh man, we were just talking about the masturbatory delusion of the Mike Pence Can Totally Win a Republican Presidential Primary, They Barely Tried to Lynch Him At All thinkpiece, when along comes Peter King with an absolute classic of the genre.

Yup yup, Mike Pence is the future of the Republican Party, and I bet Pete’s endorsement is what turns this whole thing around. Can’t imagine we’ll be hearing about this silly “MAGA” business for very much longer, not with PETER KING on the case.

Hope you caught the fantastic-if-chilling profile in the Failing New York Times of Elise Stefanik, who regrets she has but one soul to sell in her quest for power for its own sake. Every fascist movement needs a few hollow climbers to help the psychos find the light switches and fill out the paperwork. A few amoral enablers. A few Elise Stefaniks, if you will.

Matt Schlapp always seemed like precisely the sort of fellow who would grope somebody’s crotch without consent, so absolutely zero surprising news broke on the Matt Schlapp front this week. Moving on.

Fun little details keep trickling out of the January 6th committee’s report…didja see where Off-Brand Orbán somehow found time, mid-coup, to attempt to trademark the phrase “rigged election?” He’s like a truffle pig, only what he roots out, unerringly, in any situation, is the cheapest possible swindle. It’s breathtaking, in a way.

I see Jair Bolsonaro fled to DeSantistan, because I guess we’re the sort of shithole country that defeated autocrats flee to now. You guys, what if we’re not a shining city upon a hill?

The anti-vax crowd glommed onto an NFL tragedy for one of their ritual shitfits; everybody spread a bunch of conspiracy theories and injected ivermectin into their genitals and stabbed their brains for a bit; you’re super jealous you weren’t invited, don’t deny it.

Armed with the media literacy of a third-grader, Joe Rogan casually unleashed a harassment mob on an innocent doctor, lots of super healthy dynamics at work there. To everybody out there who decided to terrorize a stranger because of something Joe Rogan said, a hearty congratulations on your choices, and your awesome, awesome life. We need mandatory classes in role model vetting in this country. Especially for dudes.

Which brings us to manosphere icon Andrew Tate, whose famous fleet of luxury cars got seized by Romanian authorities in their sex-trafficking investigation. The cars achieved global notoriety recently, when Tate boasted of their mighty emissions on the internet, to a 19-year-old girl, which is the sort of thing only the manliest men do.

What else, what ellllllllllse…oh, here’s a nifty headline: 2 Men Accidentally Set Themselves On Fire Trying to Burn Down an Immigration Center. That’s a solid little play-within-a-play for this week, innit? Reinforces several key themes.

“Is the right winning the comedy wars?” asks a piece attempting to make sense of snickering jackass Greg Gutfeld’s popularity. Read it if you hate yourself, I guess. What Gutfeld does isn’t comedy, for the record, he just sneers and giggles while spewing the same bile as everybody else on Fox. As for the comedy wars, well, “meet the House GOP’s newly crowned comedy king,” Tim Burchett:

“Another time, after visiting then-President Donald Trump at the White House with other members, Burchett was the last to run onto the bus — yelling they needed to peel out because he’d just stolen the baby Jesus from the Nativity scene (he had not actually done so).”

Yikes. I suppose if Paul Ryan is what passes for a policy wonk in your sorry assemblage, Tim’s about as much as you could hope for, class clown-wise. “Is the right winning the comedy wars?” Ooooooof. Even RT couldn’t spin that shit.

Hey, at the risk of getting sappy, I was kinda overwhelmed by the outpouring of support last week, when we unveiled the expanded tip jar page. Thank you. Y’all were very, very kind, and I’m very, very appreciative, because I was able to purchase a tremendous amount of beer. Beer that deserves my attention now. Stay safe out there, and somebody wake me up when there’s a Speaker.